


Knowing

by Gelsey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gelsey/pseuds/Gelsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do I, Fleur, know truly what I am?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knowing

Does he know?

Does Bill know what I am? He does, I know he does—he knows the word Veela. He can recite the facts and figures about the creature whose blood runs in my family, whose hair in my wand, but he doesn’t _know_. His brain, it knows, but his heart doesn’t. There isn’t _understanding_.

But his family knows. His mother and his sister, at least. They recognize what I am. They can see it, but he can’t. Of course he can’t.

He’s not supposed to. The prey, they’re never supposed to know.

Molly, she sees the predator in the sharp slices of my cheekbones. Ginny, she sees the predator in the grace and confidence of my steps. Hunters stalk, they pursue on silent feet. They ensnare their prey just as I ensnare mine, putting my arms around him and pressing my body against his.

“Fleur…” he murmurs. It is loving, even in the face of his mother’s fierce disapproval.

I don’t deserve him. They should tear him out of my arms. They recognize what I am, deep inside. They see the Veela on the hunt. They know what I can do to him. I can take everything that makes him _him_. 

But then he kisses me, and suddenly I don’t care about any of that any more. His lips remind me I’m not my bloodline. They tell me how much he loves me-- _me_. They show me he’s the one I’ve been looking for all my life, the one that I’ll love until the day I die. The one I’ll only take what he gives freely.

The way he cradles the back of my head tells me he does know what I am, what I could do even with my diluted blood. He knows, and he doesn’t care.

And yet, I think as I stroke his hair before pulling away… and yet, what kind of a predator would a Veela be, if they couldn’t make their prey think there was no threat?

Can my blood lie so well I, too, am deceived by my own kiss?

Do I know? Do I, Fleur, know truly what I am?


End file.
